Necessary Movement
by loveandlight04
Summary: Tag to episodes 5X08 and 5X09. "Patrick Jane had better be ready, because once she was up in his attic, there was no way she was leaving it before she had found at least some measure of peace of mind." Jane/Lisbon.


This is a tag to episodes 5X08 (Red Sails at Sunset) and 5X09 (Black Cherry), since the action happens a week after the events of 5X08, and it serves as a possible "explanation" of sorts for Lisbon and Jane's lighter mood in episode 5X09. It also incorporates some details from 5X09, even though the events of this fic take place before that episode. Enjoy!

PS: I own nothing, Bruno Heller is the genius behind it all.

* * *

**Necessary Movement**

Teresa Lisbon was at the end of her rope.

The last few months had been nothing short of hellish for her. It had all gone downhill from the moment Lorelei Martins had been transferred to federal prison, effectively putting her out of the CBI's (and more specifically, Patrick Jane's) reach. What happened next did nothing to improve her state of mind: the belladonna debacle, Volker escaping justice and threatening her job, and the final straw, Jane breaking Lorelei out of prison.

In short, she thought it was perfectly understandable for her to be irritable and to give orders a little more forcefully than usual on a day like today (no new leads on the case they were working on, and pouring rain outside), considering all that had preceded it. That being said, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty about snapping at her team, when the one person she really wanted to have it out with was presently holed up in his attic, poring over a list of all the people he had ever shaken hands with.

Well, there was no time like the present, right? Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby didn't deserve having to walk on eggshells around her when _they_ weren't the ones who made her sick with worry these days.

She got out of her office, and before her team could look at her with weary eyes, she declared that it was late enough already, and that they should all go home and enjoy a work-free evening and a good night's sleep, so that they could look at the case with fresh eyes the following day. While this was absolutely true, she also wanted to insure that she had the privacy that she needed to really get into it with Jane, because she had a feeling that nothing short of a screaming match would help get rid of the tension and concern that had been plaguing her lately.

After a chorus of "Thanks, Boss," and a murmured "You should think about following your own advice, Boss," from Cho, the bullpen slowly emptied until she was the only one left. Her pace brisk, she started making her way to the stairs leading to what she sometimes thought of as Jane's lair.

Patrick Jane had better be ready, because once she was up in his attic, there was no way she was leaving it before she had found at least some measure of peace of mind.

* * *

When she finally reached the attic's half-opened door, she took a few seconds to look at Jane before entering. His back was mostly to her, and he was sitting at the table, looking out the window while twirling the pen in his hand, seemingly deep in thought. She could spy the little notebook he had taken to carrying around with him since Lorelei's slip about him having allegedly (she still wasn't sure whether to put any stock in that revelation or not) met Red John in front of him. She almost felt bad for intruding on him while he was so focused on his thoughts.

Almost.

He suddenly turned his head, and cocked his eyebrow at her.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Lisbon?" he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh, nothing in particular," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. She wasn't going to let him set the pace of their conversation, for once. She was going all in. "Just the fact that you've been isolating yourself from us _again_, apparently without considering how that move has never worked in anybody's favour before. _And_," she forged ahead, sensing he had been about to cut her off, "the fact that you've been a pain in the ass to work with as a result."

Jane's whole demeanour changed as the realization came that she wasn't up in his attic for a courtesy visit. His smirk disappeared, and little creases appeared on his forehead as he frowned.

"I don't see how this is any of your concern, Lisbon. I've kept on solving cases even when I was focused on… other things, so I don't really see what the problem is here," he replied with an indifferent shrug.

Had she not known him for as long as she did, she might have been upset by what he had just told her. Fortunately for her, she had no doubt that he was being deliberately hurtful in the hope that she would give up and leave him alone with his dark musings. This only served to strengthen her resolve _not_ to leave the room before she had satisfied her need to set things straight.

"Is that so? Well, let me enlighten you on what the problem is. One, I've about had it with you turning into an obsessive jerk every time we have a new lead on the Red John case. It's making you become so closed off that you end up ignoring the bigger picture. As you very well know, you have a much better chance of catching Red John with our help and input than without."

"If I may –" Jane started, but she quickly interrupted him.

"You may not, because I'm not finished yet. You're not only disadvantaging yourself when you act this way. All right, you've still managed to close cases, but neither the team nor the victims deserve not to have your undivided attention when you're at work. It's disrespectful to act or believe otherwise," she said gravely, looking down at him with her hands on her hips.

She could see she had struck a nerve. Jane looked abashed, and slightly surprised at how much sense she was making. She waited for him to answer, having said her piece. He considered her for a moment before answering.

"I'll admit that my obsessive streak has been more apparent than usual lately. And I do agree that I haven't exactly been the most respectful and fun colleague to be around. It's been… difficult for me to focus on anything besides the recent leads with the Red John case, to be honest," he told her, his tone now sincere rather than belligerent.

"I understand that, Jane. But there's a big difference between having difficulty to focus on your job, and outright not caring about neglecting it. That's what I want you to realize. And if you keep on acting the way you have for the last few weeks, you're going to lose a lot more than a few minutes of your time having a conversation with me about it."

Jane once again seemed to be rattled by what she'd said; he clasped his hands together before putting his elbows on his lap, and briefly bowing his head down. She heard him sigh before he spoke.

"I hear you, Lisbon. You have every right to be angry with me, and there's no doubt that I deserve it," he said, looking up at her. "But I can't stop going down the path that's laid before me, not when I'm closer to him now than I've ever been in the last decade. I wish…" he started, but he looked down and ran a hand through his hair before he could continue.

Suddenly, she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he would say next. She felt like things were about to change between her and her consultant, and frankly, the thought scared the hell out of her.

Still looking at his knees, he quietly added, "I wish things could be different. That I could let it go. That I could move on and…" His eyes found hers again, and he was looking as vulnerable as she had ever seen him at this very moment. "Be happy."

Her own eyes softened at his words, and she put her resentment to the side for the time being.

"Jane, things _can_ be different," she replied. "I understand that catching Red John is your priority, but you don't have to close yourself off completely in order to do that. Lately, you've spent so much time obsessing over it all by yourself that you seem to have forgotten one very important fact: you're not the only one who wants to stop Red John."

"I realize that, Lisbon," he said, his voice regaining strength. "But it doesn't change the fact that _I'm_ the one that Red John is playing games with. And sooner or later, he will make me regret not giving up and joining him when I had the chance, unless I find him first. And when I do, I don't want you getting caught in the crossfire."

And there was the anger again. Not even two minutes had gone by, and he had already succeeded in making her see red once more. Trust Jane to show her his vulnerable side one second, and to say something outrageous the next to avoid having to deal with it.

"_You_ don't want _me_ getting caught- I can't believe we're back to this! When will you get it through your thick head that I'm a CBI agent, and that it's my job to be in danger and to face off with criminals!" she told him, her tone rising with each word. "And while we're at it, how can you believe, even for one second, that keeping me in the dark is going to protect me? I think we would both have a much better chance of surviving this if I didn't have to go after you half-assed and uninformed when the time comes."

He stood up at that point, and she could swear that she saw the instant where he decided to put his mask back on, his one true defence mechanism against emotional upheaval. He had the audacity to smile at her gently as he spoke.

"What makes you so sure that you _will_ know about it when the time does come?"

She felt as if she had been slapped. After ten years of working together, of going through a rollercoaster ride in their fight against Red John, and above all, ten years of being best friends and partners, she couldn't believe he would still insinuate that he would put her aside for completely irrational reasons in the end.

She was so absorbed in her shock that she almost missed him passing by her and walking to the door of the attic. That he could have the nerve to leave her alone after saying such stupid things made her snap.

So she did something she had never done before.

"Screw you, _Patrick_!" she shouted at his retreating back.

In her innermost fantasies, she had imagined calling him by his first name for the first time in the throes of passion, screaming it in ecstasy just before he brought her over the edge with his touch. She could not consciously fathom another setting in which she would be able to let go of one of the last barriers between them. Being Jane and Lisbon allowed them to maintain a façade, and to pretend that the fleeting touches and the long looks they exchanged were all in the name of being friends and colleagues.

Sure, Jane had taken to calling her Teresa every now and then – _Good luck, Teresa. Love you. Teresa, you can call me Patrick. I can't promise I'll always be around to help you, Teresa._ – but he seemed to do it only under extreme circumstances, or when he particularly wanted to annoy her.

Now the tables were turned, and she briefly wondered if she was ready to face his reaction to hearing his name fall from her lips. The thought was momentary, however, since she had difficulty focusing on anything other than breathing through her nose and feeling so angry that she could barely see straight.

She wasn't surprised to see Jane stop dead in his tracks. But when he turned around, the look on his face made her breath catch in her throat. His blue-green eyes held her gaze with an intensity that made warning bells go off in her mind.

"You're playing with fire, Teresa," he said, his voice husky with emotion. He was slowly walking back towards her, and she could see his eyes getting darker and darker with each step he took. She stepped back until she felt her hips collide with the table in front of the attic's window, her wide-eyed gaze lingering on his.

He stood right in front of her now, less than a foot of electrified air separating them. He searched her gaze for several seconds, and she was feeling so many things at once – anger (desire) morphing into confusion (lust) and mixing with surprise (expectance) - that she could only guess at what he saw in her eyes.

She saw his hand move up as if in slow motion, and she had to close her eyes when she felt his fingers caress her cheek gently. Her skin burned (maybe she _was_ playing with fire after all) where he touched it. His fingers traced a path of heat until they settled behind her ear, his thumb continuing to brush against her cheek.

"Open your eyes," he whispered.

She didn't have the energy to fight with him anymore, so she complied. And she couldn't help but feel her heart swell when she realised that the myriad of emotions that she was feeling was reflected in his eyes.

"All I want," he said in a low tone, his fingers still stroking her skin, "is for you to be safe."

There was only one answer she could give him.

"Then _let me help you_," she said quietly.

Keeping her eyes on his, she gently removed his hand from her face. It only took her a second to put her arms around his waist, and to bury her face against his neck. She heard him release the breath she hadn't realized he had been holding since she had taken his hand away from her skin, and she felt his arms come around her shoulders, hugging her tightly against him. She took a moment to simply revel in the pleasure of being in his arms.

"I meant what I said earlier," she started, her lips ghosting over the skin of his neck. "I can't be safe unless I know what's going on. And I think it's time for you to show that you really do trust me."

She craned her neck, so she could look at him with hopeful green eyes. All the while, her fingers were drawing circles on his back, across the fabric of his vest.

"What do you say?" she asked him.

He loosened his hold on her, his hands now grasping her shoulders, and he looked at her carefully.

"I see where you're coming from, Lisbon," he replied. "I can't promise you that I'll suddenly stop internalizing everything that has to do with Red John, or that I'll stop coming up with more or less insane plans to get to him. But I agree that it's essential for you to know more than you do right now, so you can protect yourself when necessary."

His hands slid down her arms, and then came back up to her shoulders in a reassuring touch.

"I promise to do my best to keep you in the loop, and to be more… involved in other cases than I've been lately. You deserve more from me, and frankly, I miss being the wacky consultant to your badass agent," he said with a wink.

She smiled, finally feeling some relief after the never-ending tension of the last few weeks. Still, she pinched him lightly before disentangling herself from him.

"Ow! What was that for, woman?" he asked.

"That was for being an inconsiderate jackass for the last few weeks. And _that_," Feeling emboldened by their previous embrace, she swiftly kissed him on the cheek before continuing, "was for everything else. Thank you for… letting me in."

If it wasn't so dark in the attic because of the lateness of the hour and the dark clouds outside, she could have sworn she had just made Patrick Jane blush.

"You're welcome," he answered, smiling a little.

She looked at him a moment, smiling back, before nodding her head towards the window.

"It's getting late, Jane. Get some sleep, and I'll see you tomorrow. And when you're ready," she said, pointing to the little notebook sitting on his table, "you can tell me about this suspect list of yours, which I am very curious about."

She turned to leave the attic, but he wouldn't let her do that just yet, if the hand she suddenly felt grasping her own was any indication.

"Let me make one thing clear before you go," he said, his now serious gaze focused on hers. "You never have to doubt that if there is one person in this world that I trust more than anyone else, it's you. You need to know that, Teresa."

"I do. It's just been more difficult to remember these days, that's all."

She squeezed his hand one last time as they said their goodnights, and as she walked through the door of the attic, she couldn't deny feeling a real sense of calm settling over her for the first time in weeks.

She knew that things had changed between them that evening. She had broken more barriers between them in one conversation than she had in the last ten years. Not only had she called him by his first name, she had also initiated a hug and kissed him (on the cheek, but still) for the first time since they'd met. Despite her calmness, she couldn't deny that these shifts in their relationship had shaken her to the core. And more importantly, it left her… wanting more.

Her rational mind argued that she knew they both weren't ready to take things to the next level with each other. Hell, they hadn't even consciously acknowledged that there was more than friendship between them, even though they were clearly sharing more than friendly feelings towards each other.

On the other hand, her heart whispered only one word to her.

_Someday_.

End.

**Author's note: So, that was intense! This piece totally grew a mind of its own; nevertheless, I did my best to keep Jane and Lisbon in character, and for their words and actions to be believable with where they are on the show. This is my first real attempt at fanfiction, so I'd love to know what you thought if you feel so inclined ;) Thanks for reading!**


End file.
